The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1887-12-08
CRAZED BY LOVE.

It was during the hunting season at
the Chateau de Banneville. The au-
tumn had been rainy and gloomy. The
red leaves, instead of rustling beneath
tie feet, rotted in the burrows under
the heavy showers.
The well-nigh naked forest was as
damp as bathing establishment. AS
the hunter entered it and trudged
along over the wet grass and soggy
soil under the great storm-beaten trees,
he found himself enveloped by moi
some vapor with a musty smell. His
dogs also seemed affected by the
wretched weather, so detected did they
look, as with dropping tails and reek-
ing skins they trotted along close be-
hind his heels.
In the main parlor, after dinner. we
had been playing lotto to kill time,
while gusts of wind ratified the win
dows, and, on the outside, made the
old Weathercocks spin like tops. Find
ing but little pleasure in the game, we
tried our hands at storytelling, Just
as people are said to do IN books, but
no one invented anything amusing.
The hunters related adventures that
had occurred to them while out shoot
ng-massacres of rabbits, while the
ladies' racked their brains in futile at
tempts to discover Scheherazade's in
spiration.
We were on the point of giving up
this species of entertainment also,
when a young lady, thoughtlessly toy
inc with the hand of her maiden aunt,
noticed on one of the Old lady's fingers
a small ring made of light hair. She
lad frequently seen this trinket. but
had never before paid any attention to
if.
As she gently turned the ring around
her auDts finger, she asked:
By-the-by, Aunty, what ring is
tbs? 1t looks like the haIr of child
r
The old maid blushed, became pale;
then, with a faitcring voice, she said:
lit is SO sad a story that | never like
10 speak of it. 1t was the one great
misfortune of my life. | was quite
Young when it all happened, and yet
the memory of it is so painful that |
-liI shed tears whenever think about
IT,"
As Il matter of course all wanted to
hear the story. The old maid at first
refused to tell it, but finally size yield
od to our solicitations and began as
follows:
You have often heard tell of the
Sautcze family. 1t is now extinct, but
was acquainted with the three last
men of that race. They all died the
same death. This ring is the hair of
the last one. He was thirteen years
old when he killed himself on my ac-
count. That seems very strange to
you, does it not?
Oh! they were a singular race, in
sane, if you wish, but the most charm
ing lunatics, crazed by love. All,
from father to son, were prey to vio-
lent passions. to great impulses which
made them enthusiasts in all they un-
dertook, to such an extent, that they
would not have hesitated at crime.
In them this passion was what ardent
devotion is in certain minds. Those
who become trappists are not of the
same nature as our drawing-room but
terflies. In our family, we used to say:
''In love like aSanteZe." They all had
curly hair and beard and large eyes,
the light of which seemed to penetrate
and disturb ones soul, though it would
have been hard to say why.
The grandfather of the one of whom
this is the only souvenir | have, after
many adventures and duels, at the age
of sixty-five fell blindly in love with
his farmers daughter. | knew both
of them. She was pale blonde, of a
distinguished appearance, with a soft
voice and so gentle a look that she
seemed Madonna. The old nobleman
took her TO his house and became so
attached to her that he could not be
happy minute unless he was in her
company. His daughter and step
daughter. who lived in the chateau
with him, found this quite natural, so
traditional had love become in her
family. Nothing surprised them if
passion had anything to DO with the
case, and if they happened to- hear of
broken ties, of parted lovers, even OF
revenge being taken after a betrayal,
they both would say in the same af-
1iicted voice: 'Oh, how he Cor she)
must have suffered" Nothing else
Taey only grew tender over dramas of
the heart, and never displayed any i'll
feeling. even when these dramas cul-
minated in crime.
Well, one autumn M. de Gradelle, a
Young man who had been invited to
take part in the chase, went Oft, TAX
inc the young girl with him.
Mr. de Santeze remained perfectly
cool, rs if nothing had happened; but
a few mornings after he was found in
his dog kennel, hanging amidst his
dogs.
us son died IL the same way at 9
hotel in Paris. While spending some
time in that city in 1871 he became
enam0red of an opera singer. As the
lady did not return his love, he hanged
himsef
He left behind him son twelve
years old, and a widow. my mothers
sister They came to live with US, at
my fathers place at Bertillon. l was,
at the time, seventeen years of age.
You cannot imagine what a remark
ably precocious child this little San.
teze was. 1t looked as if all the ten
/ derness, ali the enthusiasm of the
hole race had falle.. % this one, the